


Mauve Confessions

by WordMusician



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordMusician/pseuds/WordMusician
Summary: She rolled her eyes at his retreating back.  This took running away from an awkward moment to a whole new level, even for a skittish time lord.





	Mauve Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A little one-shot I've had kicking around on the back burner for awhile. I can imagine this happening somewhere just before Tooth & Claw.

The Doctor studied her over the rim of his mug. His ancient gaze was thoughtful as if he could puzzle out her obvious discomfort. His nostrils registered the aromas of super heated tannins, neo-milk and Valarna sugar. As he concentrated he could also identify wool, a type of cotton, neo-vinyl, animal fat, vinegar, and more alluringly vanilla, strawberries, pheromones…

  
“What?” Rose had ducked her head letting the swing of blond hair cover her carefully schooled face. She was determinedly stirring her mug of tea. “What?” she repeated, and snuck a glance across the diner’s table at her silent companion.

  
“Are you trying to dissolve that spoon? Because I’m pretty sure the sugar dissolved 23 seconds ago.” He arched a questioning eyebrow and took a slow sip of his own drink to disguise his smirk.

  
She paused, mid stir, “Oh.” The dropped teaspoon made a tinkling sound on the retro Formica surface. The only sound echoed in the early-hours diner. They had the place to themselves. The drowsy waitress had slid into the short-order kitchen and no other customers graced the handful of tables and booths that made up the Valarnain 1950’s Earth Diner. Apparently the 1950’s held universal appeal – just not at 4 a.m. planet standard time.

“Rose…”

  
“Doctor…”

  
They spoke simultaneously then fell silent. Rose snuck another peek at him before sighing heavily. She tucked her hair behind her ears and opened her mouth ready to talk about it when suddenly the Doctor slammed his mug on the table.

  
His gaze shot to the window and then upwards to the dawn tinted clouds. “Did you hear that?”

“What? No.”

  
The Doctor was on his feet and tugging her out of the booth. “Come on!” he urged.

  
“Have a nice day!” warbled the waitress as they hastily exited.

  
Outside, the Doctor paused briefly as if getting his bearings then bolted up the deserted street. Rose ran after him silently cursing her high heels and tight skirt. She was a bit miffed that he hadn’t grabbed her hand to help her keep up. Whatever he’d heard had his full and undivided attention and their “talk” would just have to wait. That is, if he had actually heard anything at all, Rose snorted cynically at the idea. She rolled her eyes at his retreating back. This took running away from an awkward moment to a whole new level, even for a skittish time lord.

  
The Doctor turned the corner and for a few seconds Rose lost sight of him. When she skidded around the same corner, she still couldn’t see him. It was an alley ending in a tall wooden fence decorated with graffiti (something else that held universal appeal apparently). Late night shadows still shrouded the corners around the trash bins and fire escape. Rose halted and listened carefully for footsteps or the faint buzz of a sonic screwdriver. “Doctor?” she called softly. Fantastic: he’d ditched her. Things were going from bad to worse and all because…

  
A familiar hand appeared, pale in a shadowed doorway. As soon as she was close enough, said hand grabbed hers and tugged hard. She stumbled forward into the Doctor’s chest. The doorway was little more than a recessed niche and the two of them were pressed close together. “What?”

  
“Honestly, Rose, you need to work on your vocabulary. That’s the fourth time you’ve said, “What?” in the last two minutes.” The Doctor’s face was invisible in the darkness but she could hear the smile in his voice.

  
“Wha…” she caught herself. “Why are we here?”

“A distress signal: emergency subsonic emission,” he explained, “And flares, mauve ones. Mind you, they were a bit hard to spot against the pre-dawn. Not something just anyone would have noticed.”

  
“And why are we hiding in here?” Rose shifted slightly emphasizing the small space they were sharing.

  
“Ah, well. The signal cut off suddenly. Thought we should be a bit cautious, is all.”

  
“Cautious? Is that word even in your vocabulary?” she scoffed.

  
“Don’t be cheeky with me, Miss-I-can-dance-with-whatever-I-like, thank you very much.”

  
Rose huffed. “Are we really going to do this now?”

  
In the darkness, the Doctor gently touched her heated cheek. “I don’t want to fight with you, Rose. You have every right to make friends with whomever you like. In fact I do admire your willingness to be friendly towards other life forms, but I really wish you’d listen to me. After all, I do know more about local customs and rituals.”

  
Rose leaned forward until her forehead rested on his shoulder to hide her grin even though she was pretty sure he couldn’t see it. “But did you really have to upend that entire jug of Morovian ale on his head?”

  
“That was an accident. Well, when I say “accident” what I mean is it was a fortuitous incident. And when I say “fortuitous”, I mean for him.” His voice had taken on a dangerous tone and an arm slid around her waist.

  
He was jealous Rose marveled with a hitch in her breathing. “I’d have danced with you too, Doctor. You only had to ask,” she purred. Before he could protest that he hadn’t been jealous, he was distracted by her next comment. “I was really hoping you would.”

  
“You… you were?” He winced at the hopeful tone he couldn’t quite hide in his words.

  
“Of course,” she slid fully into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him. “I only went with him because he asked and you didn’t.”

  
“He was asking for more than a dance, Rose.”

  
“What?” This time, the Doctor didn’t tease her about her choice of word. “What do you mean more than a dance?”

  
“We were at a wedding ceremony.”

  
“Yeah so? Wedding and a dance – we’ve celebrated a few. And I’ve danced with the natives before.”

  
“True, but on Zurva, the wedding is the dance. Your particular dance partner was a Zurvian priest interested in collecting another mate to increase the population and raise his status on the religious high council.”

  
“Oh….” Rose’s voice faded as the reality of the situation became clearer. She shuddered as she recalled the actual appearance of her would-be dance partner. His extra set of arms and his third eye had seemed novel in the moment, but certainly wasn’t attractive enough to entice her into a permanent and intimate relationship. “So why did you take me there?”

  
He shrugged. “You wanted a bit of a party and we were close by. I’d forgotten how rare blondes were on that planet. I should have known you’d be an irresistible temptation.” His other arm had joined the first in holding her close. “I’m sorry.”

  
“I’m sorry for not paying attention. I just wanted to have some fun, dance a bit,” she confessed. While Rose loved to be with the Doctor, their adventures were becoming darker and harder. She had needed to remember what joy and happiness felt like, even if only for an evening.

  
“Rose.”

  
“I know. Distress signal, mauve flares, I get it.” She gently pushed away from him and was saddened to notice that he let her go – as far as their cozy quarters would allow. “Mauve means really, really dangerous, yeah?”

  
“No more dangerous than this.” He closed the space between them, pressing her against the wall. Rose had time for only a tiny squeak before the Doctor was kissing her.

  
This was no sloppy kiss and grope in a back alley. This was a slow and deliberate assault on any and all, real or imagined barriers that two relationship-shy people could have created. Rose’s only one lucid thought was that the Doctor wasn’t running away any longer.

  
His technique was firm but tender as he slowly moved his lips over her startled mouth. Her lips were as sweet and soft has he had imagined. She tasted of tea and Morovian ale. His agile tongue stroked the corner of her mouth, begging entrance to continue the kiss in a more intimate fashion.

  
With a soft sigh Rose relented. Her fingers buried themselves into his thick wild chestnut hair. It was both soft and springy to her touch, satisfying her curiosity. He hummed appreciatively and the vibration did exciting things to Rose’s libido.

  
The Doctor’s hands could not seem to settle. First he stroked her hair and jaw, then across her shoulders, down to her waist and then back up again. Everywhere his cool fingers grazed her bare skin he left a tingling trail of invisible fire. Rose experimented with the same wandering caresses. As her nails raked across the back of the Doctor’s neck, she was rewarded with a shiver through the time lord’s lean frame.

  
Rose moaned deep in her throat as she felt his thumbs brush the underside of her breasts and a trousered leg push itself between hers. She had wanted to be close to him for so very long. She had fantasized what it would be like, what he would do, how he would taste…

  
The Doctor stilled and then slowly lifted his head. “I’m not doing this,” he said hoarsely.

  
“You’re not?” she panted. He still had her pinned to the wall.

  
“On the pink sands of Brackadoon or under a canopy of golden trees on Festivus II,” he murmured, “but not up against a wall in some grotty back alley. You’re so much better than this, Rose Tyler.”  
Rose pressed a shaking finger against his kiss-swollen lips. “Stop. Do not apologize. It wasn’t as if I was resisting,” she smiled gently up into his contrite face. “After the first surprise, I was completely on board.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Yeah,” she affirmed struggling to bring her pounding heart under control.

  
“I surprised you?” His bemusement was evident in his tone.

  
“Sure. You go from not even wanting to dance with me to giving me the best snog of my life…”

  
“The best snog?” His voice brightened with male pride.

  
“Oh, don’t be a prat. But, yes.” Her confession was soft and though they were still intimately pressed together, Rose felt suddenly shy.

  
“I did want to dance with you, Rose,” he confessed leaning his forehead against hers. His hearts tripped a beat wondering if she would grasp what he was actually confessing to.

  
“You did?” Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and bravely asked, “Well why didn’t you ask me?”

  
He leaned away slightly; with his superior sight he could just make out her face. “Because I knew what that particular dance meant,” and yes he had wanted that with her but, “you didn’t.”

  
“Oh.” Rose didn’t know what else to say. She was still processing the fact that the Doctor had most thoroughly snogged her and that he was still pressed intimately up against her in the dark. Their relationship seemed to be going from zero to light years in a matter of minutes. This was a new and exciting direction and she was definitely anxious to explore… what had he said, something about pink sand or under some trees? Wait. Hadn’t they just been about to embark on another adventure complete with a mauve distress signal? “Doctor, what about the distress signal?”

  
With a show of reluctance, the Doctor stepped away from Rose and out into the alley. “I lost it. We’ll have to go back to the TARDIS and trace it from there.”

  
Rose leaned a shoulder against the niche wall and folded her arms. “You knew that when I rounded the corner, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but sounded more like the beginning of an accusation.

  
He pulled on his ear and shrugged. “Sort of, yeah.”

  
Rose could just make out his adorable, blushing features. “So all that “quick let’s hide in close quarters” was just…?”

  
A cautious smile turned up the corners of his lips and his eyes twinkled merrily. He had really hated the idea of having their personal conversation in a diner booth, but he had known dodging the issue was a poor tactic with a rapidly decaying orbit. The mauve flares had been the perfect diversion from the erotic vision of Rose Tyler in tight clothes and high heels.

  
Rose chuckled shaking her head at him. She stepped to his side and slid her hand into his. “Forgiven,” she grinned poking out her tongue. Honestly, how could she be angry with him when he’d finally made a move and practically kissed her into oblivion?

  
“Brilliant!” He squeezed her hand happily. “Now, let’s find out about this distress signal, shall we?”

  
“You already have an idea though, don’t you, Doctor?”

  
“Three ideas actually: Firstly, it could have been like a panic button. You know, forgot where you parked so you press the button on your key fob.” Rose giggled at such a prosaic explanation. “Or B, the emergency has been sorted with all parties either being rescued or destroyed, so there’d been no more need of the emergency signal.” Rose grimaced. “Or thirdly – or was that C? There was never an emergency at all. The signal was bait to see who would notice it and be lured in.”

  
“A trap? You reckon? But I don’t see any signs of a trap.” Rose was looking around the empty alley and up the sides of the buildings.

  
The Doctor arched an eyebrow and tilted his head toward the opening of the alleyway. “Could be a containment field that was tripped when we got here,” he offered. It was obvious he was trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. This actually could be a dangerous situation they had blundered into, but for the life of him he really couldn’t care less, not with the taste of Rose Marion Tyler still tingling on his lips.

  
“Okay…” Rose drawled, excitement bubbling in her own senses.

  
“We’ll only know when we try to leave.”

  
They began to walk out of the alley, hand in hand, palm to palm, into their next adventure together.

**Author's Note:**

> So, which has your vote: the pink sands of Brackadoon or under a canopy of golden trees on Festivus II?


End file.
